It was nothing like the gentle leaking onto her hand had been. It was as if his entire body released all its concentrated energy toward forcing its seed into her. Pump follows pump as the head seemed to swell further in her mouth forcing her tongue down and jaws apart.
Like the girl in the barn, she tried to swallow, to keep all of his seed in. She failed. She choked, coughing on the second pump. Though she managed to keep her lips around him, she felt a warm slow flow down her chin. She choked again, her head pulling back against her will, gasping. She watched a final spasm send thick opalescence out to run down the underside of his head and over her hand.
He was gasping, his chest heaving. His legs shook violently though she had no idea how long that had gone on. Sliding her hand over the head and off of him, he gave a briefer higher moan, almost of pain, before she sucked the remaining viscous seed from her thumb and fingers. It tasted somehow more fetid, more alive, than the first sample she had teased out, sitting on the hay bale.
She stood, dragging her body along his, feeling his heart pound and his chest still labor. She tucked her face under his jaw, nuzzling into him. One arm wrapped low around her waist, pulling their groins close. The other hand slid up, grasping the back of her neck, holding her close.
They dried each other with the thick white cotton towels they found hanging on hooks. Neither spoke until he guided her, hand in hand, back to the bedroom, easing her back onto the bed. He lowered his weight onto her, Robin’s legs opening to allow his between them.
He held his upper body propped up on his elbows, his eyes glowing. “Thank you. That was incredible.”
“I know.”
“I’ve never…no one has ever…that was my first…”
“Mine too.” She smiled up at him. “You know, I’m glad I didn’t, but when I first kissed the tip of your…head, where the drop was, I almost laughed.”
He looked almost hurt. “Why would you laugh?”
“A thought came to me and I almost blurted out, ‘I’m a Red-headed Woodpecker.'”
The seriousness, the lingering uncomfortable tension that neither were entirely prepared for so early in their lives or relationship, broke. Their laughter lightened the mood and the room.
Leaning over her, Robin saw his smile vanish, his face turn serious.
“What is it?”
“You’re sunburnt.” He reached out and lightly pressed a single finger pad to her chest, near the top of the collection of freckles. The red skin was white for a second after his hand pulled back, then red again.
She nodded, her lips pressed together. “It’s tender. I didn’t notice earlier.”
“A long hot shower probably didn’t help.”
“Felt good at the time.”
“That it did.” Jay looked over at the window sill. He rolled to the edge of the bed. Reaching out he grabbed a fleshy branch of the potted aloe and broke it off. The spikes down each side looked more menacing than they were.
Robin looked at him, surprised and puzzled. “That’s not yours! Why did you break their cactus?”
“It’s aloe. Nature’s soothing balm. I’ll confess to Tom and Ruby if you want, but I bet that’s why it’s here.”